


A Falcon Among Peacocks

by sylviaviridian



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Sex, Flower Language, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26221549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylviaviridian/pseuds/sylviaviridian
Summary: Artoirel de Fortemps finds one of their houseguests strangely fascinating. One night shortly before their departure, it turns out to be mutual.
Relationships: Artoirel de Fortemps/Thancred Waters
Comments: 13
Kudos: 45
Collections: August Novel Pairing Challenge 2020





	A Falcon Among Peacocks

"A grand melee?"

"Yes, my lord," the manservant agreed, as he took Artoirel's heavy outdoor coat to put away. "Your brother and the Warrior will be competing on behalf of Ishgard, and your father has already gone to oversee preparations. If you wish to attend, there will be time on the morrow to make your way to the site."

Artoirel rubbed his hands together, letting the warmth of the fire sink in; it had been a long journey back from Falcon's Nest already, and all he wanted for the moment was a hot meal. "I will decide in the morning," he concluded. "Will I be dining alone for the evening, then?"

"The Warrior's friends have elected to remain until the event begins, as they will not be participating." The man bowed as he moved to leave. "I shall inform the kitchens of your arrival; I believe the evening meal will be ready within the hour."

Artoirel nodded, and made his way into the study. Thancred was there, standing beside a bookshelf, one of the leather-bound tomes open to his casual perusal.

He had to admit that he found the man rather fascinating. One moment a scholar and the next - as Hilda had so aptly put it - a ruffian inclined to blend in with the Brume, the Hyur's affable charm made it easy to ignore or disregard the casual, coiled grace in the way he moved. He'd seen Thancred fight, though, when those misbegotten priests had overtaken the Vault, and his speed with the long knives he carried so lightly was a sight no one could quickly forget. There was a refinement beyond brigandry in it, though certainly brigandry seemed a likely origin.

Thancred's attention turned toward him as he came into the room, and Artoirel was graced with an easy smile, an expression that held no insincerity and yet never quite seemed to fit correctly on the Hyur's face. Perhaps all that rang false was the idea that someone who had so obviously suffered many hardships _could_ smile so readily. And yet he did, and he never gave any sign that it wasn't meant, and Artoirel simply could not quite fathom what lay behind that smile or the single warm brown eye visible behind the fringe of his bangs.

"Good evening," he greeted with a slight bob of his head. "All is well at the Nest, then, I hope?"

"Stable for the moment," Artoirel agreed, letting a little of his exasperation with the whole business show on his face. "If somewhat less than optimistic; but given time and distance from the incident, there is still a chance for cooler heads to prevail." He raised an eyebrow at Thancred. "I don't think I took the time to thank you, before, for helping keep a lid on the whole mess during those early hours."

Thancred shrugged, and raised an eyebrow right back at him. "I rather assumed any gratitude was offset by the fact that I knocked your brother flat afterward."

Artoirel sighed and shook his head. "Even he admits he swung first, and I've seen how you fight when you mean to do harm; he's lucky you stopped at making your point." He turned a little to contemplate the painting on the wall beside him rather than continue making eye contact, as the weight of his family's fraught dynamics settled into his voice. "...Emmanellain is, despite current appearances, a good man, but he has never shown much in the way of direction or self-control. I can hope that this incident, taken as a whole, will motivate him to think his choices through, and take their consequences to heart."

Putting the book away, Thancred nodded, and wandered over closer to Artoirel, idly examining a nearby vase of flowers with his good eye. "Joining our Warrior friend on the battlefield of his own volition does seem a good first step; we can see on the morrow how well he takes it. Not that it's truly any of my business, but… well, I hold no grudge over a fit of ill-considered temper."

"I appreciate the magnanimity." He turned back toward Thancred and looked the Hyur over, sensing that there was something more in the air, something else the other man was waiting for a chance to express. "The evening meal should be ready shortly, as I was informed when I arrived. I assume the others will be joining us as well."

"I expect so; Alphinaud is a growing boy, and Tataru would never miss a chance to regale us with the gossip of the day. They'll likely retire early, though, since tomorrow promises to be eventful one way or another." Thancred casually took a flower from the vase and held it out between his fingertips, at a distance such that Artoirel could accept it as a gift or ignore it without either of them losing face. _Sunsgold for passion,_ he thought automatically, the meaning of the flower in Ishgardian floral language having been thoroughly drilled into his memory, and then as his eyes traced over the position of the flower's stem and Thancred's hand, he slowly froze up. The stem was held between his first and second fingers - _a brief encounter_ \- and angled toward himself obliquely - _I am open to your approach_ ordinarily, but in this specific context something more like _I will receive you._ The flower was an _offer,_ and an absolutely salacious one at that. Blue eyes flickered up to meet brown, startled and wanting to confirm what he was seeing, and Thancred's eyebrow and the corner of his mouth quirked slightly in response. Yes, the Hyur knew exactly what he was doing.

_When did this man have time to learn the intricate nuances of flower language?_

And after all, hadn't he just been musing on his fascination with the rogue? After spending the last two moons trying not to stare too obviously at him? Clearly he hadn't been subtle enough. ...But in addition to the cleverness of the offer, the method used said that Thancred understood discretion, and the necessity for it. He wouldn't be here much longer - a night, maybe two, and then they might never see one another again. Artoirel couldn't ask for a more convenient opportunity.

He took a deep breath, and reached out with his right hand to accept the offered flower, allowing his fingertips to brush Thancred's skin in the process - _agreement, acknowledgment of physical desire._ Mind still buzzing with the audacity of what he was doing, he brought it up to his nose to take in the scent - _I am deeply interested_ \- then slipped the flower into the inner pocket of his coat - _no one must know._ "Then the evening will be ours to do as we will."

Thancred smiled openly, a heated promise in his gaze. "I suppose I'll see you after dinner, then," he replied lightly, and made his way toward the door leading back to the dining room.

Two bells after a rather distracted dinner, Artoirel discovered that Thancred was even more eager than he'd suspected, behind closed doors and away from prying eyes. He groaned into the other's forceful kiss, allowing himself to be pulled down onto the bed as soon as their trousers had been dealt with.

"Don't hold back," Thancred panted as they parted briefly, nimble fingers cradling Artoirel's length through his smallclothes. "You're not my first, you won't hurt me. We both have our reasons; all I ask is to forget them."

Artoirel nodded, words failing him for a moment, and leaned down to worry one of the rogue's nipples between his teeth in lieu of a reply. The gesture elicited a rough cry from Thancred, who arched and wrapped his legs around Artoirel's waist, grinding shamelessly against his belly and leaving Artoirel more cognizant than ever that he was nearly a fulm taller than the Hyur beneath him.

"Brazen and fearless," he murmured against one of the tattoos on the man's neck, running his hand over the wiry muscles of Thancred's torso and feeling him squirm in appreciation. "Do you not care that I could break you? Or is it that you want me to try?"

"Promises, promises," Thancred groaned breathily, and from the shudder in his spine Artoirel could guess that in fact that was exactly what he wanted. "I'm harder to break than you think, but don't take my word for it."

That was all the permission Artoirel needed to sink teeth into the man's collarbone, drawing out another eager cry. The heat of the compact, muscular body beneath him was intoxicating, like a reminder of all the warmer places outside Coerthas' icy peaks that Thancred must have seen, that Artoirel might never get to. He _wanted_ that, and for this moment he could allow himself to indulge in wanting, using his hands and mouth to explore Thancred's scars and calluses like a map of places he could barely imagine.

When Thancred arched up against him again with something like a whine, the sound along with the rigid length brushing his belly went straight to the base of Artoirel's spine, spurring his hunger to greater heights. He planted one hand in the middle of Thancred's chest, pinning him to the bed and denying him the leverage to even consider turning the tables; his other hand fumbled with a jar of lotion at his bedside, coating his fingers thoroughly with enough slick that they slid inside Thancred's body easily when pressed against his entrance, despite the difference in their sizes. He knew enough about making love to men to guess that, were his intention only to toy with the Hyur until he came undone, he could stop before the second knuckle; instead he pushed them inside as far as they could go, and was gratified to see Thancred's good eye flutter as he spread his legs further.

"Harder," was all he said, voice ragged with pleasure. " _Fuck._ I can- take more than that. I need more," and with every word Artoirel found himself burning hotter than before. He pulled back his two fingers and thrust in three, watching need and ecstasy play across Thancred's features as he did so. The Hyur gave a whimpering moan as he was opened up further, but seemed far from objecting, especially from the way his cock was beginning to leak clear fluid onto his belly.

Artoirel didn't bother with continuing to finger him for long - he would already have been inside another Elezen by this point, only holding off to ensure that he didn't harm the Hyur, but Thancred had clearly stated that he wanted to be taken roughly. Whatever places he'd been and things he'd seen outside these walls, he wanted them driven from his mind, and Artoirel was only too willing to help him with that. He withdrew his fingers and changed their positions - a brief, mostly wordless negotiation that ended in Artoirel poised above Thancred, holding his thighs spread lewdly, knees almost to his chest, both of them breathing hard as the head of his cock nudged at Thancred's loosened entrance.

He felt for a moment as if he should say something here, but the silence in his mind was a reminder of their strangeness to one another. He didn't know what Thancred wanted to forget, what words might help quiet his demons, and probably that was for the best, for both their sakes. This shared lust was all they had in common, so he thrust forward, burying himself deep, listened to Thancred's groan echoing his as they began to move together, hard and fast and eager.

After that, there was no room for words between heated breaths and muffled sounds. Thancred bit into the back of his hand to keep from crying out too loudly when Artoirel's long fingers wrapped around his cock, small in comparison to an Elezen hand but pleasingly thick and rigid. He used his other hand to lift Thancred's hips to a better angle, nails digging into flesh as their muscles shuddered, chasing after ecstasy separately and in concert. When at last he felt the smaller man begin to tense beneath him, he had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out his own pleasure, fucking wildly through both their climaxes until there was nothing left but the mess of their bodies and the half-silence of wordless panting.

Slowly, relentlessly, time and reality began to reassert themselves, a little more with each settling breath and slowing heartbeat. Artoirel watched Thancred's face as he pulled himself free and sat up: the Hyur's eyes were still closed, as if trying to savor the last few moments of mindless bliss, and again Artoirel couldn't help but wonder what such a man was fleeing. He took the moment to fetch a damp cloth from the washroom adjoining his bedchamber, and when he returned from cleaning himself up he found that Thancred had sat up enough to reach for the offered cloth of his own volition.

He took his time cleaning up, silent as Artoirel settled back into the bed and studied his body, no longer bothering with the pretense of disinterest that he'd kept up in public. Once he was finished, he turned a crooked half-smile toward Artoirel, who couldn't help noticing how his bangs covered his other eye even with the bandana he used as a patch thrown to the floor somewhere between the door and the bed. "I'm guessing you're too polite to kick me out," he said, tone light and bantering, and although there was still no actual bitterness in it, this time Artoirel thought he could hear just the softest edge of melancholy in the words. "Don't worry, I know how this works."

Artoirel shrugged expressively. "The staff are discreet," he replied, maintaining eye contact. _Fury knows they have to be, with everything my family gets up to._ And there was a sharp satisfaction in that thought, the knowledge that for once he'd been the one to step out of line, if only a fraction. Only a fraction, taking a near-stranger to bed who wouldn't be around long enough to gossip about, who had asked and been offered no promises, who could not possibly show up on the doorstep in nine months with an additional consequence in tow. _Breaking the rules still feels good even when you do it safely, it turns out._ "The bed is large enough for two, but it might be difficult if your companions were to discover you here in the morning."

That earned him a slight wince, and a soft chuckle. "I'm always up before they are, anyway," Thancred admitted, already settling himself in amongst the bedding. "...If you don't mind the company...then perhaps just a little rest before I make my way back to my quarters."

Watching him drift off, Artoirel didn't reach out to touch him again. He had the strong sense that there was someone whose touch would have been welcome, but he didn't think it would be his own. Instead, he closed his own eyes, and allowed himself to drift away to the nearby sound of breathing, knowing that when he woke this brief moment would be over, never to be spoken of again.

**Author's Note:**

> All thanks to [Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/pevkHem) for this novel pairing challenge and the encouragement to finish it (barely) on time! Hope you enjoyed, possibly look forward to more Artoirel content in the future


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